Why Did It Have To Be Me?
by romanticidiot
Summary: Slash. SiriusRemus. One Shot. There's a tense silence around Hogwarts and nobody knows why ...


**DISCLAIMER:** The characters are not mine.

**WARNING:** It still contains slash.

**Why Did It Have To Be Me?**

**By**

**LizzY Tears**

When you were lonely, you needed a man 

_Someone to lean on, well I understand_

_It's only natural, but why did it have to be me?_

It started out as something secret and small. Touches in class, kisses in the hallway, empty beds at night. Nobody knew, not even the closest friends. You don't talk about passion with your best friend when your best friend sleeps in the same room with you.

They both enjoyed it. They both needed it. Remus was lonely and Sirius was bored. Put the two together and you get their relationship. It filled a void that couldn't otherwise have been completed. That was what their relationship was about. Filling holes and healing wounds. Experimentation and excitation.

But then … then it wasn't small and secret anymore. People noticed. It wasn't that they noticed the relationship, it wasn't that they were any less discreet. It was that suddenly two of the Marauders refused to speak to each other. You would find any number of people (including teachers who wanted to know why one's schoolwork increased in quality and one's decreased) questioning James or Peter for an answer. But they were as baffled as anyone else. Why should two people who had always been so close and amiable suddenly refuse to sit at the same desk? Why should Peter and James have to choose loyalties and spend long hours in the Common Room or the Library and avoid the other's name?

It wasn't right.

Despite James and Peter's best efforts, the answer remained allusive. Both boys were tight lipped and closed mouths. The mention of the other only sparked fire in their eyes and balled fists. It evoked, "James, if you're going to mention that person, I suggest you leave the room," and … it evoked tears that nobody was supposed to notice.

The sudden breakdown of the relationship was nothing short of historic. Its fame reached its peak one stormy morning in the Great Hall …

Remus was there early, of course, reading. He had taken to being out of the dorm room before dawn and in bed almost before dark. This day he was seated in the middle of the table, a thick book (of course) propped up between him and the pumpkin juice. Within his cocoon of literature, the butter was hidden. This will become important in a moment.

Sirius was also there early, on this particular morning. Remus' leaving had woken him, as it usually did, but instead of lying awake and fighting tears, Sirius had decided that damn it all, he was having breakfast. His illogical nature did not allow him to realise that he was going to run into Remus at breakfast.

So he stumbled into the hall at some ungodly hour and sank down at the end of the table, his tired senses awakening to the aromas of the array of breakfast options in front of him. Bacon, scones and cereal disappeared and the room began to fill with people. It was then that Sirius woke up and realised he wanted toast. Now we come to the importance of Remus' possession of the butter. To eat toast, Sirius needed butter. Problem. Remus had the butter. Problem. Sirius wasn't speaking to Remus. Problem.

Faced with the option of trying to eat toast without butter, Sirius stood up with a growl of frustration and marched over to where Remus was sitting placidly. He watched for a moment as Remus absently lifted a slice of obviously cold, limp, toast to his lips and then put it back on the plate without eating because he was picking up a quill. Then he cleared his throat loudly and pointedly and waited for Remus to acknowledge him.

Remus looked up, startled, his expression unguarded and Sirius was caught off guard. It had been so long since Remus looked at him at all, or without the hurt and contempt that had been swimming in his eyes ever since _then._ His heart stopped beating for that moment. Then Remus recognised him and regained control of his features, the hardened mask that had become the norm sliding over them.

"Black." He acknowledged coolly. "What do you want?"

"I-." Sirius began and was suddenly torn between wanting to apologise and asking for the butter. "I … need the butter." He sighed.

Remus glanced down at the plate of soft butter and then back at Sirius.

"Here." He said and handed it up to him. Sirius took it, his eyes frantically trying to take in every inch of Remus' face without seeming like he was doing it , because he had a sudden premonition that this could be the last time they ever spoke. As a result, his hand was limp and he fumbled his grip on the butter plate.

The two of them watched as it slipped from his hand and smashed to the ground. Their eyes met in the next instant, accusation and dismay vying for first place. Then Remus suddenly dropped his eyes and Sirius was amazed to see a drop of water fall from his lash to his robes.

"No use crying over a broken butter plate." Sirius said sharply, his shock making him terse. Remus raised his head again, then, and the fury written there forced Sirius back a step.

"Of course not." Remus snapped back, standing up suddenly. "Nothing is worth crying over, to you, is it, Black? You don't feel anything. You can't find emotion for anyone or anything!"

"Hey!" Sirius retorted. "That's a lie!"

"Is it?" Remus challenged, moving closer and glaring at him. "Is it really, Sirius?"

"Yes!" Sirius claimed indignantly. "I care about the Marauders, and pranks and …"

"Love?" Remus demanded quietly. "Do you care about love?"

Sirius looked into Remus' eyes and didn't know what to say.

"Uhm …" He fumbled, thinking.

"No." Remus finished softly for him, reading his expressions. "Love doesn't matter to you."

With that, he turned around and gathered his book, tucking it under his arm and walking away from an astounded, humiliated, Sirius Black.

"Hey!" Remus heard angrily a moment later, as he exited the Great Hall. He spun around to find a furious Sirius chasing after him, anger written in every line of his body. "This is ridiculous! I didn't _ask_ you to fall in love with me! I certainly didn't ask you to tell me! I am not the bad guy here, and you're trying to make out like I hoodwinked you and now I'm tired of you!"

Remus gazed at him tiredly.

"Well, aren't you?" He asked softly and turned away again.

"Hey!" Sirius repeated and caught up with him. "I'm not tired of you. You're the one who stopped wanting to -."

"Because you told me, in no uncertain terms, that you thought of me like your brother." Remus hissed, stepping forward. "That's not something I want to be told when I'm sharing your bed."

Sirius gaped at him like a fish.

"I said -."

"You said, "No, Remus, I don't love you. I like you an awful lot, but I don't love you."" Remus quoted.

"That doesn't mean I think of you like my brother!" Sirius exclaimed. "I could never think that after …"

"That's what I thought, too." Remus told him sadly. "But when I told you I loved you and you said that, it proved me wrong. Good day, Sirius." He said with soft dignity and walked away.

"Why me?" Sirius asked quietly. Remus stopped.

"What?"

"Why did it have to be me?" He took a step towards Remus' frozen figure. "Out of all the people you could have chosen for all of this, to love … why did you choose me?"

Remus turned to face him and an unreadable look what in his eyes.

"Oh, Sirius." He said softly, shaking his head. "I didn't choose you. Love did. Or rather, you did. When you held my hand, kissed me softly and touched my cheek." He looked at Sirius for a moment, then dropped his eyes. "So you have your answer." He said, his voice harsh with raw, barely concealed emotion. "Now go."

But Sirius didn't go. Sirius stayed standing in front of him and Remus found himself waiting for some reaction. Sirius rocked on his feet for a moment, his eyes concentrated on the ground. Then he was directly in front of Remus, taking him in his arms and kissing him gently.

"I lied." Sirius told him hoarsely. "I was scared. I didn't know why I felt this way. I thought you were … I don't know what I thought. I guess I didn't, really. Look, Remus, I don't want to spend another week like this one. I want things to be … like they were before, only … better."

Remus gazed at him, his eyes wide and his expression unreadable.

"Sirius," He said, "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing." Sirius said. "Absolutely nothing."

AUTHOR'S NOTE 

This was supposed to be a Christmas fic. Then I got the song stuck in my head so out went that idea. I hope all of you have a very merry Christmas and I hope all your dreams come true in the new year.

Love always,

LizzY :D


End file.
